SHARON ROSE POET: My Father's Death and Rebirth

My Father's Suffering has Ended

He did not have a good and fulfilling life,
But he is now free of the pain and strife.

My father passed away yesterday afternoon. It appears that my sisters are not allowing a wake, depriving all of his loved ones of that deeply needed closure. This should not be surprising to anyone who knows them or this situation. But it is to me. I so needed that closure.
I feel relieved that he is no longer suffering and is now free. The phrase, "He is now in a better place," applies doubly in this situation. But I grieve his life - especially his last couple years, which were the complete opposite of what he had wanted and needed, and were filled with unnatural suffering and the intentional deprivation of most of his loved ones and his home, which he had wanted to spend the rest of his life in.
Not being allowed to be there for him, when he needed my heart the most, has been and still is a VERY great source of pain for me, and I know it was for him too. I hope to use my father's situation, as an example to help pass new laws that protect elderly people from greedy children and emotional and mental abuse and intentional deprivation. He was a victim of all these.

My sisters had, on many occasions, severely deceived my father as their jealous hate fabricated things, in order to turn him against me and destroy our relationship. And I have always felt that, when he dies - when his Spirit is free he will finally see the truth about me. So, there is a part of me that wants to stare down my sisters and say, "NOW HE KNOWS THE TRUTH! YOUR DECEPTIONS CAN'T EXIST BEYOND THE GRAVE." But they wouldn't believe me, anyway. "She's crazy" is what they'd say.

Last night I wrote the following poems as I was doing a small round of grieving my father's final year and also finding comfort in knowing that he is now free of it. At one point, I felt his Spirit here with me...

Father's Ohio Prison

He dared not make a sound.

As he groped on the ground

With no help or care around.

I saw him crying in that chair.

I felt his pain I could not bare.

No heart could even get there

While he suffered in her snare!

He dared not make a sound.

As he groped on the ground

With no help or care around.

Now he Knows the Truth

I want to smugly say to them
Again and again and again,

"Now Dad knows the whole truth

Of your deceptions so uncouth."

Even as he sees what they do

He loves and forgives them too.

I have not yet reached that place

My anger needs to have it's space.

"Now Dad knows the whole truth

Of your deceptions so uncouth."

But they'd not believe me, anyway.

"She's crazy" is what they'd say.

I'm so, so Sorry, Dad

I'm sorry I should have done more

To save you from their darkest door.

I'm not sure what I could have done

While too isolated from everyone.

But there was something, I'm sure.

I'm so, so sorry I didn't do more.

He's OK Now

"I'm OK" I think he may have just said

In my searching gropes inside my head.

Was it him or only what I want to hear?

Was it just a wish in my unshed tear?

Did I really hear, "We love you bum"

Through leaves glowing in the sun?

Yes I did. His time has truly come.

He'll be smiling there with Mom.

Tears of Relief

Here they finally come - tears of deep relief

Instead of the usual mourning in loss grief.

It means so much more than I can ever say,

To know that you are now finally "OK."

A Special Place

Comfort, truth and Love are saved,

In a special place beyond the Grave,

Where freedom opens up the eyes,

And helps the heart to perge - to cry,

So that those who could not see,

Can finally set their Spirits free.

From Father to Son

If he could speak to you he'd say

Words of comfort from the grave,

"I really do love you"

"You do matter too"

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Forgive me."

"I forgive you."

"I'm free."

"I'm me."

"I see."

Stolen Good-bye

My sisters are not allowing a wake for our father. And I feel that being able to say good-by to a loved one, either when they are on their death bed, or at an open casket wake, is a VERY important and needed closure. A wake for my father was especially important for me, because my sisters had built a hostile wall between him and I, in the last year of his life. Due to this, my plan was to go see him at his wake, and do my own private and peaceful good-bye, after everyone else had left, so that it would not raise any issues for me or anyone else. And being deprived of this feels horrible. Right now its one of my deepest sources of grief.
My sisters say that this is the way my father wanted it. But I feel absolutely certain that my father did NOT want all of his loved ones, except his two oldest daughters and their children, to be deprived of the chance to say good-bye to him, in person. This was my sister's choice, not his. And its just too wrong.
Because I so deeply grieve this stolen good-bye, there is a little consoling voice, deep inside my heart, that says, "someday you will be able to say good-bye, and even another hello, in a place where they cannot interfere." But I still cry. Right now I just so needed to be able to see him and say good-bye to him.

My heart now aches so, while I cry

I've needed so much to say good-bye

Stolen Good-bye

No wake. No closure.

No chance to say good-bye.

How can they be so mean,

Even right after you die?

The Final Door

She can't hurt him,

To hurt me, anymore;

He's passed through

His final door.

She can't use him

To hurt me, anymore;

His death and wake

Were her final door.

Sorely Missed

I don't now miss Dad anymore than before.

I'd already missed him right down to my core.

I missed the meetings they didn't allow

I missed them then and I miss them now.

I missed the welcome. I missed the care.

I miss what never was even there.

I missed his release from her nigh.

I miss being able to say good-bye.

P.S. Two days after I wrote this I had the following experience...

Hello instead of Good-bye

I had a vision of my father and talked to him. I am a bit concerned, because he is on his hands and knees. I asked him why and he said, "I can't move." I asked him if he knows that I did not write those emails, and he said, "I know, honey." I asked him if he sees the truth, and he said "I see, honey." I told him I love him and started crying too hard to stay connected.
I don't understand why he is stuck there like that. Maybe its just what is needed while he processes things. I hope that's all it is. He seems peaceful and "OK" though.

I guess I do not have to say good-bye to him, because I said hello instead. And hopefully I'll say hello again. But right now I need time to process things too.

Three Fantasy Memorial Services

To me a memorial service is for loved ones to gather, share stories and be sources of support for each other. For my father, the wake is not allowed, which leaves the memorial service as the only option. A miracle, and a LOT of healing, would have to take place in my family, before we could all gather and feel comfortable and be sources of support for each other. I do not expect this to happen by then. In fact, I feel sure it won't. I do not think it ever will, at this point.
A memorial service is not worth going to if it is uncomfortable and unsupportive, and especially if it could be hurtful like it surely would be to me. My sisters and I should not even be near the same room, at this point. They do not even want me in the family, let alone at a family gathering and its been this way through most of my life. I have never seen them be capable of curbing their hate, not even in a crowd where they tend to just mask it so that noone else notices, except for me. I'm not going, because it would be too uncomfortable and I do not want to be hurt anymore, especially at time like this.

But I've fantasized about going to the memorial service...

In one fantasy; I go dressed in dirty, torn clothes, with my hair all matted up and dirt smeared on my face... portraying myself as the crazy worthless waif that they want me to be and remain. This idea came from my old "lets give em something to talk about" attitude in my little inner child. She is still alive and well. :-)
In another fantasy; I dress up and put make-up on, so that I look as pretty as is possible... I pull in my power and barge through there wall and stand up to share a few heart felt poems and crack a few jokes and have the crowd laughing and crying and cheering me on... letting both of my sister's jealous hate build as much as it wants to... and then leaving before they can stab me with it. :-)
In both of these fantasies I go just to put on a show; in one to be a martyr and give my sisters what they want, and in the other to defy them and be the very best version of me - what they have always hated me being. I have a dark side too, and this is it. I have no intention of acting on these pain/anger filled fantasies, but...

As I fantasized, I laughed until I cried

Grieving can be an emotional roller coaster ride

My third fantasy is the one I wish could be; In this one my whole family loves me and we all support each other through this difficult time, no matter what our differences are. In this fantasy they are there for me just as much as I am there for them. I stand up and read some poems and they all appreciate it as much as I appreciate the stories they share. Its a loving gathering that honors the memory of our father and is like what I've always wanted our family to be. I quickly brush this fantasy aside, because it being so very far away from our reality raises an unbearable pain in my heart, literally, because its the way I'd always wished my family could be.

Another Breakthrough for my Father

Earlier, I'd shared that I saw my father in a vision, stuck and unable to move. He was also void of emotions. It was just his intellect that spoke. I actually felt a bit uncomfortable with this. So I decided to not press further. However, I sensed that he needed help, so I kept sending him white Light. I was not sure if he'd want it, but he soaked it right up. Then I saw him sit up. And then I saw him crying in the arms of an Angel. This is a VERY good and healing breakthrough for him.
Some people will probably think that I am just imagining the messages I got from him. And I have wondered the same thing. But I feel that it is not just my imagination, because I never would have thought of him being stuck and void of feelings. I actually expected the opposite. And some of what I had hoped would happen, if we connected in the Spirit world, did not happen. In fact the thing that was most important to me didn't happen, because his feelings were frozen. If I only imagined any of it, it would be the part where an Angel was consoling him as he processed his feelings, because I so wanted this for him - I wanted him to be comforted and to heal and to move into the Light. But I feel that this is real too.

Dad, this song is for your next breakthrough - for when you are finished processing things and are ready to stand up and walk into the Light. I am imagining you singing this to me and your other loved ones...

Lead Me Home by Jamy Johnson

https://youtu.be/3rbW8rbpQ9I?si=IUKF1QZTk17Kva82

P.S. I wonder what had made him be in a frozen state like that. Had he been heavily drugged with psychotropic pharmaceuticals before his body died? If so, did this carry over into the Spirit world? Very possibly. Or was it because he had been a mind control victim? Very possibly. Was it due to the effects of the "dementia"? Very possibly. How long would he have been stuck like that if I had not sent him the white Light? These are questions we should be asking for the sake of the wellbeing of all Souls/Spirits. Surely some things that are done to people, before they cross over, can have a lingering negative effect.

New Vision of my Father

I prayed for my Uncle Jr to come help my father, and he did. I saw my father crying as he stood up to hug him. Uncle Jr is letting him cry on his shoulder and is holding him. My father has faced things, but is now grieving, which is actually good and healing. Thank God he is no longer stuck and that he has all the help he needs there for him. My mother is still waiting on the side lines. He's not ready for her yet. She’s already in the Light.
I feel a sense of relief. Dad truly is "OK." He actually wasn't when he'd thought he was, but he is now. Thank God for Uncle Jr's heart already being there in the Spirit world. And thank God for the power of the white Light, and that I was able to help him with it. My father is now fully free and standing, so the song I shared earlier is even more appropriate at this point.

My father was a young soul who has a long way to go, before he reaches completion. Perhaps we will experience another life-time together, and have the opportunity to do it better. But perhaps we have already experienced enough, together. Time will tell.
I'm a bit jealous of his newly found freedom. Its not my time yet. But when my body dies, I want to go directly from my body into the white Light and be completely free to go wherever I want to go and do whatever I want to do. My first stop will probably be in the arms of a Loving Angel as I face the truths I did not see, and do some healing. Something I still look forward to...going Home, where there is Light and Love and peace and total freedom. It's my Light at the end of the tunnel.

Poem I Wrote in November 2023

Last summer I had tried hard to let go of my father; to pretend that he had already died, because my sister had finished destroying his relationship with me, again. She had him thinking so badly of me that, even if I could have crashed through her hostile walls, him seeing or talking to me would have surely been upsetting to him. Her wall was unbreachable. And I knew she would not let him return home and reconnect with me in a positive way. It was over for my father and I when she took him to Ohio. But I was unable to let go of him. The past year has been agony for me, because he was trapped there in Ohio, against his will, and was suffering, and everything I'd tried to do to rescue him had failed.
Throughout the past year I often prayed for a Light to shine on my father and comfort him, and for his suffering to be over quickly, especially after I'd had a vision of him sitting in a chair miserably crying and wanting to go back to his New Hampshire home, as my sister continued to hold him there against his will. I wrote the following poem on November twenty third 2023, as I grieved...

Dad I Forgive You

Dad I've been waiting for you to go Home.

Dad I've been crying for you all alone.

I'm sorry I couldn't get past her stone,

As you remained there, trapped to the bone.

Dad will your heart find forgiveness for me?

I hope the Angels will help you to see.

Dad, I'll be glad when you're finally free.

Dad I forgive you for all that went wrong

Dad I forgive you for not hearing my song.

Dad I forgive you for truths you didn't see

Dad I forgive you for not caring 'bout me.

Dad will your heart find forgiveness for me?

I hope the Angels will help you to see.

Dad, I'll be glad when you're finally free.

I feel your hand here trembling in mine,

As if it were real and not a fantasy rhyme.

I know we'll meet in some far away time.

After you finally have crossed the line.

Dad will your heart find forgiveness for me?

I hope the Angels will help you to see.

Dad, I'll be glad when you're finally free.

Dad I hope to see you escaping the night.

I hope to feel you walking into the Light.

I hope that you will regain your sight,

Far, far away from her horrible fight.

Dad will your heart find forgiveness for me?

I hope the Angels will help you to see.

Dad, I'll be glad when you're finally free.

I never had the opportunity to sense his passing. At the time of his death - at around 2pm on January 19, 2024, I experienced a sudden severe microwave weapon attack, in a library, while I was writing on my blog. It appears that those who target me knew he was dieing.
I am glad that he is finally free. But I grieve for the suffering he experienced in his last couple years. And I grieve for myself - my own needs also not being met - him and I never even having the opportunity to fully set things right between us, after my sister's 2002/2003 and 2022 and 2023 sabotaging of my father and I's relationship. This was a VERY difficult and horribly abusive situation for both my father and I. And its just too sad that they made him take it to his grave, instead of letting resolution and peace settle in before he died.

More may be added later...

SHARON ROSE POET

My Father's Death and Rebirth

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